


when i hear your body move

by mukkmuro



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Fluff, Future Fic, Living Together, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Post-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukkmuro/pseuds/mukkmuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nijimura Shūzō doesn't do half-asset. If he proposed to himself to rendez-vous his over-working boyfriend's pants off, goddamnit, he's going to do just that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when i hear your body move

**Author's Note:**

> i can safely assume this is going to turn into a series.  
> thank you to all amazing authors who inspired me to notice this pairing and i hope you enjoy this little thing.  
> please note that this isn't beta'd, so there might be mistakes along the way.

Nijimura Shūzō doesn't do half-asset. If he proposed to himself to rendez-vous his over-working boyfriend's pants off, goddamnit, he's going to do just that. 

Thus, the reason he ended up going to the supermarket - which mind you, isn't remotely close to their shared apartment as it should be, stuck between meticulously grabbing the most healthy ingredients and scrambling for actual meals he knows how to cook. 

It takes him almost three whole hours to decide and eventually, he settles for the easiest things he can do, while keeping in mind what Akashi likes and dislikes. The more he looks at his half-full cart, the more frustration and anxiety creep on him. 

Once arrived home, he puts on some worn-out clothes that always put a very distinctive scornful expression on the redheaded rich prick's face. But, by solid facts and polished observation skills, Nijimura knows for sure Akashi likes the way the sweatpants ride low on his hips and the way the t-shirt, two sizes too tight, clings to his chest and forearms. Perhaps the only two reasons why his boyfriend never took the initiative to toss them out yet. (Also perhaps, the only reason why he even attempts to wear them anymore.) 

He's not as skilled in the kitchen as he's on the court, but the dishes are simple (well-balanced and as his mother once pointed out to be a key-essential step in any cooking anything, made with love). Nijimura absolutely doesn't fluster at that. Damn it. For his own sake, he pushes all sappy thoughts aside and concentrate on the task at hand. 

*

A few hours later, he's waiting patiently for the final pieces to cook, so he can take a well-deserved shower and change his clothes to once that Akashi wouldn't frown upon seeing, but still get his attention, nonetheless. 

He comes off the steaming shower to the sound of soft footsteps approaching the living room. On cue, a wave of unwanted anxiety floods over him. Isn't this pathetic? He's not some damn modern-times kept wife trophy, despite what his frustrated, paranoid thoughts may believe. 

His chest tightens a bit once his eyes meet crimson ones he grew so fond of over the past couple of months. "Welcome home," he suddenly remembers how to use his mouth. Akashi looks over his figure, from damp hair to the comfortable in-doors attire he's wearing and smiles ever-so-slightly, looking pleased and amused. 

He tosses his briefcase on the nearest pieces of furniture and walks - no, you can't call that just a walk, more like a catwalk, the type you only see from someone so self-confident, they don't even realize how smooth they can move - towards him. 

"I didn't knew you were cooking dinner tonight," he says, a hint of genuine surprise and affection in his tone. Nijimura shrugs. The bundle of nervousness clogging up his throat, preventing him from actually using his mouth again. 

Akashi's smile stretches. His hand widens around his neck, gently tugging his head down for a brief chaste kiss. And it's enough to dispel all residing feelings in the pit of his stomach, except for the toe-curling warmth only the readhead's touches can inflict on him. "That's very thoughtful of you, and unexpected, thank you," and if the words don't make him blush, the way Akashi's gaze strikes him with so much care and love does it, for sure. 

Akashi's fingers, still tangled in the short hairs at the base of his nape, give him a last affectionate tug before withdrawing and the touch grounds him, makes annoying things happen to his insides. Things that shouldn't happen, things that Nijimura can't help but yearn for. In the deepest coffins of his mind, of course. 

"Yeah, well, you've been working way too much," he admonishes gently, knowing full-well that Akashi takes pride in his work, no matter what that work is. "So I thought I'd be nice and do something for you, once in a while," he shrugs again. At this point, Akashi doesn't fall for his indifference play anymore. (Sometimes, he wonders if it ever worked on him. After all, Akashi knew him better than most of the friends he grew up with did.) 

Akashi scoffs, "You know it's not just once in a while," and he means it. He has the same look in his eyes he gets when someone is trying to play him. Which never works out for either sides. But the look tempers down and Akashi sighs, loosening up his tie. 

Nijimura smirks. It's not every day you don't get an earful from Akashi after defying him. He helps him get out of his jacket and quickly, fleetingly pecks him right above his ear, a peace offering gesture. Akashi looks up at him. He sees in his eyes that the gesture has been dutifully noted and approved of. (Sometimes, Nijimura thinks he can't read minds, like Akashi can, but so much time spent around him and he became accustomed to his tendencies and slight mood-swings. Sometimes, he thinks, Akashi lets him see them. He's grateful to have became someone his boyfriend can trust to such degree. He understands how hard it must be for him to open up to others and to be someone of these few others, it's a flattery as much as a duty he intends on not screwing up.) 

*

He leaves Akashi to go take a shower and changing his clothes, while he waits patiently at the kitchen table. There's no candles and no vase with flowers on the said table, thank god. He already considers throwing out the food, but he remembers Akashi's expression and can't bring himself to do it. To distract himself from his new-found self-awareness, he makes Akashi's favorite kind of tea. 

And just on time, Akashi emerges in the kitchen, exactly a moment after Nijimura turns off the stove and fills a cup for him, handing it out to its rightful owner. Akashi whispers his thanks and takes a few sips, while taking a seat at the table. Nijimura follows shortly. They start eating and Akashi talks about his day, while Nijimura listens and responds whenever necessary, mostly to lightly complain in a joking matter or just out-right call 'bullshit' when it needs to be said. 

He notices the bangs forming under Akashi's eyes and he doesn't like the wryness embodied in his boyfriend's features. Attempting a joke about one of his customers, he's pleasantly surprised to see a scandalized expression on Akashi's face before it dissolves away, shadowed by fondness. The redhead chuckles and shakes his head. The sound of him chuckling is enough to melt his insides and to set ablaze his bones. 

Akashi declares that he'd be the one to handle dishwashing duty tonight and Nijimura only rolls his eyes and snorts, filling up a cup of tea to the brim and going back to his place at the table. "What's the hurry, really," he mumbles to himself. Akashi pretends he didn't hear it. 

"What else did you have planned?" he asks. Nijimura squints his eyes, rummages his head for an adequate answer, but honestly, he can't think of anything. 

"Nothing in particular," he admits. "I'm open to suggestions, though," plus, even if he did think of something, he'd rather have Akashi relax by doing whatever he wanted. Even playing shogi by himself. 

Akashi hummed softly to himself, thinking about it for a bit. He eventually finishes with the dishes, but he still seems to be in deep thought about it. Nijimura looks at him. The crease between his brows and the slightly too tight-lipped press of his lips. He thinks Akashi looks adorable. Like a kid who can't choose between which flavors of chips to get. 

"Perhaps, we can watch a movie," he settled. Nijimura was completely sold to the idea. Better than watching him play shogi, for sure. (Maybe Akashi anticipated that. Or he's trying to repay him for the dinner. He will never know for sure.) 

They move from the kitchen to the living room, Akashi motions for him to pick a movie, since it's obvious that between the two of them, Nijimura will actually pay the most attention to it anyway. (It's definitely payback for the dinner, he thinks.) 

He settles on a B-rated action movie. Akashi already took a seat on the luxurious couch that Nijimura couldn't ever afford on his own. The thing is half as big as their bed. And their bed is monstrous-sized. He stretches himself to the couch and just as the protagonist is introduced via a childhood sob story, Nijimura feels movement next to him. He moves a bit to wrap his hands around the slimmer body currently trying to snuggle at his chest and smiles into the soft red hair. (Definitely better than shogi.)

A few minutes later, they end up sprawled on their back on the couch, Akashi half on top of him, snoring lightly with his face pressed flat on his chest. His hand his fast asleep under the other's weight, but Nijimura is half-asleep himself, so he hardly notices it. His fingers are idly playing through the silky hair mushed against his jawline. It's ticklish and perfect. 

When the end credits roll, Nijimura pats Akashi's head softly, for which he receives a soft groan, followed by the redhead nuzzling him head further into his chest like he wants to crave himself a space there. (Too late, he already has one.) 

He huffs a breath and wraps his hands tightly and securely around the man's midriff and heavens them both up and off the couch. Akashi's hand clings to his shoulder like he's afraid the other might leave him and disappear. Nijimura's mild irritation is the only thing that disappears. How can a grown-ass man be so cute? It's simply not fair. 

Thankfully their bedroom isn't too far down the hall. Akashi might have a smaller frame than him, but he goes to the gym way more than Nijimura is. On dangerously wobbly feet, he lowers Akashi down on the bed after tugging the covers away. 

The redhead murmurs in his sleep something only he understands and rolls on his side. Nijimura rolls him back and helps him out of his pants, despite a number of grumpy mumbles and groans thrown his way. (Akashi Seijūrō. The Akashi Seijūrō. Acting like a petulant toddler. Nijimura should find it hilarious, not so damn adorable.)

He takes off his own shirt and sweatpants and slides under the blankets, tucking a hand under Akashi's head and turning on his side to slot his chest to the other's back like two perfectly matching puzzle pieces. Akashi sighs contentedly and wiggles closer to the warmth and Nijimura buries his nose in the crook of his neck, feeling himself drift in slumber to the sweet lullaby that's his boyfriend's steady heartbeat. (He should cook dinner more frequently.)


End file.
